


After Party

by Quietlemonhush



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Sirius Black, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Top Remus Lupin, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietlemonhush/pseuds/Quietlemonhush
Summary: There’s a party. There’s a werewolf. There’s some flirting. There’s some sex.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 430





	After Party

Remus leaned back against the mantle, arms crossed in front of him, a drink held carefully in his left hand. It was a hot toddy, festive and bright and warm and mixed with just enough alcohol to make him feel loose because Lily was a fantastic bartender. She was standing beside Marlene, laughing into her hair, the Christmas lights throwing red and green over their faces. Godric’s Hollow was all gussied up for Christmas, muggle links and real fairies mixing to cast everything in cheery colors. Remus had never seen someone successfully mix the pair before, but Lily had coaxed the lights on and taught the fairies to dance around them, and the effect was enchanting.

It was as big a party as James and Lily had thrown since their wedding. Remus recognized most of the faces, school friends and Order friends and all manner in between, celebrating Christmas and the end of a war. He kept telling himself not to look for one very specific face, one black-haired man who was late from work and whose aftershave smelled like cloves and good health.

“Oi, Moons, come tell Fenwick about that time we got Minnie to hex Filch!” James shouted merrily, a little drunk and one arm flung around Benjy’s shoulder, surrounded by a small crowd of very drunk witches and wizards who hung on his words because James was charismatic and exciting even when he was sloshed.

“And risk getting the same treatment if the word spreads? Unlikely.” Remus lifted his drink to avoid getting pulled into the circle of conversation. Which wasn’t, he knew, particularly good manners. One was meant to enjoy the parties one’s friends threw. One was meant to socialize.

But he missed Sirius. He had missed him all week. There was nothing wrong; no crisis, no horror. Just busy schedules. In the days of the war, he would’ve killed for a week like this. But the war was over and they had survived and the truth was that he did not want to be at a party. He wanted to go home and prop his feet on Sirius’ lap and read a book aloud until they both fell asleep.

He was 25 going on 82. He didn’t care.

Remus nursed his drink and smiled sincerely at Dorcas when she came to stand next to him. He and Dorcas had an unspoken agreement to be quiet with each other in crowded spaces, and to work as a team to save Marlene and Sirius from doing anything too stupid. It was a symbiotic relationship. Both of their significant others sometimes needed to be talked down from dangerous ideas.

There was a roar at the front of the house, James’ voice gone low and booming like he was back on the Quidditch pitch. A chorus of voices joined him, shouting something too muddled and drunken for Remus to properly make out. 

“Think they’re finally knocking the house down?” Remus asked wryly.

“Nah. I think Potter’s husband has made an appearance.” Dorcas nodded towards the kitchen, where Marlene had released Lily to appraise someone’s hair—black hair, very soft. Remus felt a flutter of want and tiredness and desire and love all mixed into one. 

James was chanting “Black! Black! Black!” like a one man arena, and Marlene was fussing Sirius’ hair back from his eyes, and Sirius was looking across the entire party to lock eyes with Remus.

Remus smiled reflexively, and Sirius grinned back at him. He was wearing a leather jacket. He was holding a bottle of bourbon. He looked good enough to eat.

“You can trim it later, Marls, when you can stand on your own two feet,” Sirius promised, using one arm to steady Marlene as she swayed perilously. Beside Remus, Dorcas moved automatically, pushing her way through the crowd to take Marlene’s elbow and keep her upright. Sirius turned to James, who was still chanting, and laughingly kissed his head. “Thanks mate. Trust you to root for me.”

“Oi, Pads, tell Benjy-“ James began again, and then abruptly turned, his face taking on a green pallor. “S’cuse me,” he said before sprinting towards the door.

Sirius watched him go with one eyebrow arched, but when Lily went after him, he shrugged and turned back towards Remus. 

Sirius moved with an unfair amount of grace. Remus thought he could watch him do anything and enjoy it. He parted a way through the crowd as easy as anything, arriving in front of Remus with the bottle of bourbon still in his hand. “Hi,” he said. “I’m Sirius.”

“Is that your name?” Remus asked with mock surprise. “Here I thought a siren had made an appearance at the Potter’s holiday party.”

“Come to seduce you?”

“Well, to try. It wouldn’t work, of course.”

Sirius grinned, moving to stand beside Remus, their sides barely touching. “No?”

“I’m in a committed relationship with a selkie. Very jealous.”

“That’s funny, because my favorite werewolf is always calling me a selkie.” Sirius tossed his hair over his shoulder pompously, and the effect was ridiculous, but made something in Remus grow warm. He wanted to thread his fingers through that hair. He wanted to pull it.

“Your favorite, hmm?”

“Even sirens have favorites.”

Remus smiled down at his drink. The knot of anxiety that had been brewing in his belly all day was slowly unraveling. “I suspect they do. But don’t you eat your conquests?”

“If they ask nicely.”

Remus leaned closer, his voice low so only Sirius could hear. “You actually seem the kind to prefer being told.”

Sirius flushed, and closed the distance between them to kiss Remus lightly. “Ten points to Gryffindor, Mister Lupin,” he said against Remus’ mouth. “You know me so well.”

Remus looped one arm around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer. What a long week. What a long, stupid week, and all he had wanted to do was this. “I have made a habit of observing your behavior, I will admit,” Remus said, not protesting as Sirius swayed, the embrace turning into a soft dance to the Christmas music James had blaring.

“Stalker,” Sirius said, nosing at Remus’ ear.

“I live with you,” Remus protested.

Sirius laughed. “Hardly, this week. I feel like I’ve barely seen you.”

“I know. It was unbearable.”

Sirius pulled back in surprise, his eyes wide. “Unbearable? Moony, talking like that, someone might think you _liked_ me.”

Remus tugged him forward again. “I do like you, idiot. I like you the most out of anyone.”

Sirius made a pleased noise. “Say that again.”

“I like you more than anyone else, Sirius Black. One might say I love you. One might go so far as to say I love you above every creature on the earth, that I think you are the grandest, loveliest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, and that I would trade this whole party to be in our flat, alone and naked, so no one could have the exquisite pleasure of your company but me.”

Sirius stilled, looking up at Remus for a moment with wide eyes and an open mouth. Such declarations were commonplace from Sirius, who would sing literal songs about Remus’ fine arse in public if Remus didn’t curse him silent, but from Remus? Sirius turned then, shouting a “We’re out, Prongs!” towards James, and by the time James understood the words they had disapparated with a noise like thunder.

  
  
  


An instant later they appeared in their own flat, twenty miles away, and before Remus could turn the lights on Sirius was kissing him, open mouthed and eager, his hands sliding under Remus’ shirt. Remus pulled him closer, reveling in the feeling. “I missed you all week,” Remus murmured against his mouth. “I missed you so much.”

“What a terrible week,” Sirius agreed. “Let’s never do it again.”

“Mmm. Always have dinner together.”

Sirius hummed, his hands rubbing soft over Remus’ lower back. “Have you eaten yet?”

“I ate some of those rolls Lily made.”

“That’s not a proper dinner, Lupin.”

Remus groaned, pulling Sirius flush against him. “I don’t want to eat. I want to kiss you.”

Sirius laughed. “This seems like a reversal. Didn’t I say that last?”

Remus ignored him, tucked his face against Sirius’ neck and breathed in the scent of him. Just right. That was the scent of home, and he held Sirius still for a minute, inhaling. Sirius stroked long fingers through his hair. “Come on, Moony. Let’s eat.”

“Mmm,” Remus murmured, and bit down sharply on Sirius’ shoulder. 

Sirius gasped, head tilting back. “You know I meant curry,” Sirius said, but it was breathy with excitement. 

Remus licked over the spot where he had bitten, enjoying the way Sirius squirmed against him. “Curry later,” he insisted, one hand sliding below Sirius’ waist band to grab a handful of his arse. Sirius groaned, rocking his hips, and Remus pushed his knee between Sirius’ legs. He liked the way Sirius would press against his leg, mouth opening, and how easy it was to increase the pressure until Sirius arched back on that line between pain and pleasure. 

Sirius shuddered, caught between squirming away and grinding forward. “Remus,” he moaned, and Remus sighed for the red of his mouth. Had a more beautiful creature ever been made? He did not think so.

“Bed,” Remus said, half statement and half command, and didn’t wait for Sirius to respond, just steered him towards it. Sirius didn’t protest, his fingers twined through Remus’ as they moved down the hall. 

When Sirius made it to the bed he turned, grabbing Remus by the collar and tugging him close enough to kiss. They went down together, a heap of limbs on top of the covers, Sirius huffing with laughter. “Hush,” Remus ordered. He pushed himself up a few inches, his forearms bracketing Sirius’ head, and smiled down at him. “This is a very serious moment.”

“Is it? Is it a shagging anniversary?” Sirius waggled his eyebrows. “The seven hundred and eighth time you’ve fucked me into incoherence?”

“Who said I was fucking you?” Remus asked, leaning down to nip at Sirius’ lower lip.

“Your eyes. Also, it’s practically your hobby.”

Remus shrugged. “Maybe I just wanted a good snog.”

Sirius frowned at him. “Lupin, it was heavily implied I was getting fucked.”

Remus feigned disinterest, looked away. “I don’t know where you got that idea. I was thinking we’d talk about our budget in here.”

“You fucking prat. You can’t just go _biting my neck_ and then-“

Remus looked down at Sirius, one eyebrow raised. “I thought I could do what I wanted with you,” he said flatly, in a tone that made Sirius stutter to a halt. 

“You… you… yeah, Moony, but-“ 

“Thought I could fuck you when I liked, where I liked,” Remus continued in the same steely voice. He could feel Sirius twitching against his hip. “Thought you were mine to do what I pleased with.”

“Yes,” Sirius said, his voice hushed, his eyes wide. 

“So if I want to come in your mouth and make you wait all night to get off?” Remus asked.

Sirius whimpered, half longing and half real fear Remus wouldn’t let him come. Remus tilted his head, his breath warm over Sirius’ mouth. “Or if I want to get you hard and leave you squirming in those jeans till morning, desperate to feel my cock inside you? It doesn’t really matter, does it? Because you’re mine, and I can do what I want with you. Can’t I?”

“Yeah,” Sirius stuttered, breathy and punched out. “Yes, Moony.”

Remus kissed him hard, one hand grasping Sirius through his jeans in reward. He kissed him until they were both dizzy from lack of air, Sirius’ cheeks pink and his hips thrusting up erratically against the pressure of Remus’ hand. “These fucking jeans,” Remus ground out, “are obscenely tight, Sirius Black.”

“Take them off,” Sirius panted, rocking his hips against Remus’ hand.

“I will, and we’re not putting pants on until Monday,” Remus said. He sat back on his heels and allowed Sirius to scramble up the bed, kicking his jeans off as he went. They clung to his ankles and Remus ripped them off with one final tug, flinging them over his shoulder. Below the jeans, Sirius wasn’t wearing any pants, and Remus arched an eyebrow in query.

“I hadn’t done the laundry!” Sirius said hotly.

“What have I told you about pants, Padfoot?”

“I _know,_ I know, they’re extremely sanitary. But–“

“You’re a wizard. Laundry takes you all of two seconds.” Remus grabbed Sirius’ ankle and yanked, dragging him flat on the bed. He slid his hand up Sirius’ calf, under the bend of his knee, to the supple flesh of his thigh, where poetry ran parallel to the bones of his leg. “You’re just a bit of a tart.”

“Am not,” Sirius said, his voice a little dreamy and distracted from the way Remus’ fingers were pressing into his thigh, a steady pressure.

“You are,” Remus said, dipping his head to lick one pink nipple. 

Sirius groaned an assent, his long fingers working under Remus’ shirt again. Remus gathered both his wrists and pressed them against the mattress above his head. “Stay,” he commanded, and sat back, letting out a soft breath of satisfaction. That was right. Sirius was stretched out beneath him, hard and flushed and willing himself to stay in place. His hair was a wreck, fanned beneath him on the pillows, and his chest was rising and falling in quick bursts as he watched Remus.

Remus grazed his knuckles against the soft skin on Sirius’ stomach, watching the muscles twitch and quiver beneath his skin. He ran his fingers down Sirius’ side, arching an eyebrow when Sirius began to squirm. 

“That tickles,” Sirius protested, tossing his head on the pillow. “Please just touch me.”

“I’m touching you right now,” Remus said indulgently, fingertips skimming up Sirius’ sides.

“ _Moony_!”

Remus hummed, moving his fingers lower with deliberate slowness, stroking over hip and thigh. His touch was soft but Sirius was panting with effort. Remus curled his fingers around Sirius’ thigh, pushing it up towards his chest, the heel of his foot pressed solidly against Remus’ shoulder. “Stay,” he repeated, rubbing his fingers slowly over Sirius’ cleft, slick from a wordless spell.

Sirius moaned when Remus circled his rim, turning his head to bite at his own arm in frustration and want and need. “Hey,” Remus said sharply. “I didn’t say _bite_.”

“I can’t–you’re _torturing_ me–“

Remus pushed two fingers into Sirius abruptly, watching him arch up. “Torturing you?” He repeated, pressing his fingers in with short, merciless thrusts.

Sirius moaned again, his fingers clutching above his head. Remus knew he could handle the stretch of two fingers and added another, because Sirius liked it when it was just a little too much, when he was overwhelmed and wordless under Remus’ hands. Sirius cried out, twisting on the bed, his mouth red and wet, his eyes closed. “ _Fuck_ Moony,” he gasped.

Remus chuckled, crooking his fingers to brush Sirius’ prostate and earn another low moan. “I think I will fuck you,” he said, reveling in the way Sirius clenched around his fingers when he spoke. “Someone has to do it.”

“Could always ask–ah! For volunteers,” Sirius ground out, rocking into the thrust of Remus’ fingers. 

Remus frowned, his hand stilling. “Pardon?”

“Oh don’t stop,” Sirius gasped, his eyes flying open.

“Ask for volunteers?” Remus demanded.

Sirius was flushed and sweaty, and when he pushed up on his elbows and flashed Remus a shit eating grin it only enhanced the look. “Well if _you_ don’t want to, I could always ask Benjy. He’s fit enough and– _fuck!”_ Sirius cut off with a sharp breath as four fingers thrust into him, the breadth of Remus’ hand stretching him wide. He fell back against the bed, fingers clutching the sheets.

“No, pretty Padfoot,” Remus said, his free hand digging in to the flesh of Sirius’ leg, holding him there. “No one gets to touch you but me.”

“Please–I–Moony–“ Sirius babbled, twisting as his body sparked electric. 

“Say it, Sirius,” Remus ordered, his eyes golden in the light of their room.

“Please fuck me oh _Moony_ please–“

“No. Say it.”

“Only you, yours, fuck Remus only yours,” Sirius gasped, toes curling. “Please yours _please_.”

Remus watched him, the telltale way he bit his lip, the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. He was close to coming, his breath hard and fingers clenched in the sheets. Remus pulled his fingers free and nearly laughed at the way Sirius wailed a protest. “Be patient,” Remus admonished, but gently, leaning over Sirius to kiss him as he finally vanished his own clothes. He pressed the head of his cock against Sirius’ entrance, pushing in just enough to tease. “We have all night.”

Sirius opened his mouth to argue but then Remus was pushing into him, splitting him open with one smooth stroke, and suddenly he couldn’t think of much but dragging his nails over Remus’ shoulders, his breath coming in hot puffs, the way Remus bit down hard on his own lip. There was a moment when Remus fully inside him and they both stilled, panting, and Remus kissed him so softly Sirius thought he might break from it.

“I love you,” Remus said against his mouth, and then he pulled back and sank in again, so that they both moaned in unison. Sirius threw his head back to bare his throat and Remus rocked against him, working himself up into the rhythm they both liked, those sharp, hard thrusts that made Sirius open his mouth in a pretty little gasp.

“You’re so fucking good,” Remus groaned, tossing his own head back. “So fucking hot and good. I could fuck you all night, just keep you here begging to come.”

Sirius moved to stroke himself, but Remus batted his hand away. “ _Moony_ ,” Sirius gasped, but Remus shifted his hips, changing the angle to go deeper, and Sirius arched up in appreciation, his back bowing against the bed. Remus wrapped his fingers around Sirius’ cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts, and the inarticulate cry Sirius gave was enough to let him know that Sirius was close close close.

Sirius made a small noise with each thrust, his fingers in Remus’ hair, on his shoulders, making the whole world a burn of color and sensation and light. Remus thought he might drown in the feeling. As much as he liked driving Sirius to the brink, making him wordless and pliant and _his,_ it always pulled him there too; watching Sirius arch beneath him, feeling him clench around him, Remus knew he was no more in control than a man at the crest of a tall, tall wave.

Remus sped up, his thrusts harder and faster, because Sirius liked how it felt and Remus liked to hear him moan, and it felt right, that pulse of electricity and magic that came when Remus snarled _“Mine”_ and thrust in hard enough to make Sirius’ voice crack, his thighs clench.

Sirius cried out as he came, gasping Remus’ name like a prayer, and the way he moaned “Remus _fuck Re-_ ” was all it took to drag Remus over the edge with him, three last hard thrusts and a shudder that ran through his entire body. The world was white and brilliant and hot, and then he was panting hard on top of Sirius, his teeth clenched on the meat of Sirius’ shoulder.

Remus lay there for a long minute, coming back to himself. He nosed at Sirius’ shoulder, the place where a fresh bruise would form by morning. Sirius made a pleased noise, and Remus turned his face to kiss him, long and slow and sweet.

“Hey,” Sirius said with a smile when they broke apart.

“Hello,” Remus said, and kissed him again. The the night spread out in welcome before them.


End file.
